


((doja cat blasting in the bg))

by spills



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Aprons, But I Promise There Is No Sadness, Fancam Fic, Filming as A Kink, M/M, Puppy as a nickname, Slightly Tipsy Men, i have no idea how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29734377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spills/pseuds/spills
Summary: Reaches for his phone, swipes at the contact named "puppy 🐶" and proceeds to send an innocent message or few that gets the man to look up.[babe][baaabe][boo don’t be ignoring me][im literally asking for attention rn]
Relationships: Komori Motoya/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	((doja cat blasting in the bg))

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [fancam](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28988265) by [elleskandal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleskandal/pseuds/elleskandal). 



> i have no idea how long this fic has been in the works but thank you elle for letting me do a spiritual p2 of her fancam fic. it's almost midnight. there's 80 (?) sunakomo fics when this goes up. i think i might cry hoohoo

Here’s the problem with National Team reunions, while Rintarou is adept at the intricacies of social media and connecting with others on it - Motoya happens to be sort of the opposite. His significant other has a talent for making conversations come to life in person, somehow having simple pleasantries become engaging. While that makes him entertaining to be around, all that attention is usually directed to Rintarou _only_. 

He knows that the little voice in his head is starting to sound like a possessive boyfriend this very moment but he thinks he can be forgiven for that. He has made himself comfortable on one of the sofas across the lounge from where Motoya is and a moment ago, Atsumu had slapped his boyfriend’s ass, you know, the way jocks do, in a no homo way. His boyfriend’s response to that was boisterous laughter and a shove to the shittier Miya’s chest, clearly jesting in good fun. Still, Atsumu’s hot and Motoya’s hot, and while Rintarou knows that he’s hot, jealousy is irrational. Which is why he picks up his phone instead of walking over to where his boyfriend is, playing it cool while the others around him are comfortably drunk. 

Reaches for his phone, swipes at the contact named " **puppy 🐶** " and proceeds to send an innocent message or few that gets the man to look up. 

**[babe]**   
**[baaabe]**   
**[boo don’t be ignoring me]**   
**[im literally asking for attention rn]**

Suna can't help but smirk from his perch when he sees Motoya’s head perk up. He looks around the room before his gaze locks with Rin. Atsumu still has an arm thrown around Komori’s shoulder but Motoya's gaze is half-lidded and heavy on Rintarou's being before flicking back downwards to his phone screen. 

**[ur asking for attention?]** **  
****[in public?]** **  
****[never thought id see the day]**

True, Rintarou wasn't one to demand attention first, not verbally at least. If he wanted attention, his usual modus operandi consisted of slinging an arm around Motoya’s shoulder and suggesting _let’s go home_ in a low voice full of promise. Suna wonders if he could blame it on the alcohol, feeling his insides going warm when Motoya looks up with an expression that screams _terribly amused_.

**[come on im asking now so cant u be nice?]**

**[nah that only makes me suspicious]** **  
****[and we should spend more time with our peers]**

**[oh cmon]**   
**[we were spending all day on court with them 2day]**

**[uh huh]** **  
****[i worked super hard today too!]** **  
****[if ur trying to get me home to fuck u]** **  
****[pls kno that my kneecaps are tired and might break]** **  
****[itd be bad if only yaku and heiwajima are on court]** **  
****[bc my knees got ruined bc of fucking u]** **  
****[ :( ]**

**[what if i be a pain in ur ass instead ;)]**

**[haha very funny]** **  
****[ur gonna need to be more convincing than that babe :3c]**

Suna looks up from the phone to see Komori looking at him with a challenging grin that's promising trouble, indicating that he's being a brat on purpose. A filthy text isn't going to cut it, Suna's sure of that, and he isn't going to risk sending a personal nude - tasteful or not - with Atsumu in the vicinity of Motoya's phone. Flicking his gaze back to the screen, he thumbs through his video gallery, finds what he's looking for and presses share to Motoya’s contact.

**[ _video attachment_ ]**

**[??????]**

He closes his eyes, double-checking if he sent the correct video, and yeah, he did. The video’s a bad idea really but Rintarou’s feeling loose and free while comfortably tipsy - runs a hand through his hair in a devil may care motion. He keeps his eye on the prize - namely, his boyfriend as the video is still loading in the messages - 1.1MB left. Rin might not be by Motoya’s side now, but he can imagine the furrow between Motoya’s brows, his lips twisting into a pout whenever he thinks he might have been outplayed.

Lucky Rin as he gets to admire the fruit of his labour - Doja Cat’s voice keening and sweet from across the room and Rin finds himself humming along to the tune as Motoya’s grip on his phone loosens with an undignified squawk. _Fuck,_ he should have had his own phone ready in his hand to record Motoya’s heroic dive for his phone, a worthy play done by one of the National Team's very own liberos. 

Sure, everyone _oohs_ and _ahs_ over how flexible Sakusa Kiyoomi is, but the amount of splits Komori has done to save a ball on court has always been consistent and reliable with the man barely breaking a sweat - simply doing what needs to be done. If their coach was here now, Suna’s sure he’d be weeping tears of joy at how beautiful Komori lowers himself to the ground. Well, more accurately, he’d be calling Komori a dumbass for dropping his phone in the first place. 

Atsumu has also spilt his drink all over Motoya, side effect of being shoved to the side by 66kg of professional athlete. The setter has an offended look on his face, yelling _what the hell ‘toya-kun!_ and ‘toya-kun stands up with a flustered smile and excuses himself. There’s blue from Atsumu’s beverage staining Motoya’s pale yellow shirt. It’s a shame because Rintarou has quite the few fond memories of it. 

“Hey Suna, leaving already?” that’s Sarukui who’s noticed him standing up, smile on his lips lazy, “Shouldn’t Komori be by your side?”

Suna and Komori have kept their relationship on the down low, though it’s pretty much an open secret among the Raijins and the people they think should know. Such as old teammates and family members that aren’t uh, assholes. It works out well, especially when everyone around them has been supportive - sick of the way they kept dancing around each other. 

Thank fuck for Motoya’s stupid fancam that finally pushed them together, all instances of their personal lives locked under their privs. It’s nice, especially when Motoya still continued to make silly little fancams of him to jazzy tunes in a wholesome manner. 

“Very funny,” Suna drawls, “Hasn’t it occurred to you that maybe I’m on the way to ditch this place with pretty arm candy?”

Sarukui scrunches his nose. Deserved for being a little shit. 

“Gross, you call him that in bed?” the younger of the two retorts. Suna shrugs, pulls his lips into something sly as he answers “Wouldn’t you like to know? Too bad he’s mine.” Oh yeah, he’s definitely drunk, because sober Suna would definitely _not_ let anything that suggestive leave his lips in polite company. Not that he would consider Sarukui polite company but he still had a brand to adhere to.

Sarukui flips him the bird with rowdy laughter and tells him to fuck off. Suna blows back a kiss before leaving the scene, now to behind the scenes, guessing that Motoya would be in the bathroom, attempting to salvage his clothes. 

Predictable - Motoya’s trying to scrub the blue out of the fabric with hand soap and sure it could work, but they could be using that time better doing something else. It’s predictable of Rintarou to take advantage of their height difference, wrapping his arms around Motoya’s waist and settling his chin on the tip of the shorter’s head, nuzzles his nose in Motoya hair, the scent of it having a hint of expensive gin. 

“You could just buy a new shirt puppy,” Rintarou murmurs.” 

“If I need to get a new shirt, you’re paying for it,” Motoya huffs, “This is your fault.” 

They’re in public and Rintarou knows he shouldn’t be getting handsy now but he can’t help it. “Nah, it’s your fault,” he slips a hand under his man’s shirt, tracing tipsy circles on Motoya’s hip bone. "You told me to give you a good reason to go. I think I delivered pretty well babe.” 

Motoya flicks his eyes up to meet Rintarou's gaze in the mirror. "Yeah?" Motoya drops his voice low as he lowers his eyes once more, determined to get rid of the stain, "Is that what you jack off too when I'm not around?" 

"Very funny," Rintarou rolls his eyes, "I was hoping to show it to you some other time but," drags the word on his tongue, "I guess fancams are the modern day equivalent to love letters." 

To that, Motoya shakes his head with a laugh. "Darling, I'm pretty sure what you made was a sextape _disguised_ as a fancam." 

"What can I say?" Rintarou spins Motoya around on his heel, "Just wanted to celebrate how sexy you are." 

"That's just sleazy," Motoya smiles back at him, "You're terrible. The worst, how long did it take you to splice it all together?" 

"We-ell," and this is the embarrassing part, Rin knows that he definitely spent way too much time and effort on what was supposed to be a joke of a pet project. Spending a total of 5 hours on a 26 seconds project is truly unbecoming, especially when it was supposed to be 15 seconds at most. "I'd be a bad boyfriend if I didn't put at least half the effort you did wooing me." 

Motoya giggles at that, twirling around so they're properly face to face. "No way- Sounds like you're the one obsessed with _me_ now." Rintarou leans in, close enough that their lips are brushing when he answers that. 

_“And if I am?”_

* * *

**[ _0:02/0:26_ ]**

**“Seriously Rin? You’re whipping out your phone now?”**

Motoya runs a hand through his hair. His bangs out of place, and sweat causing strands to slick back. Motoya's smoking hot and while Rintarou had always found Motoya to be on the attractive spectrum, it was always towards the cute leaning end. “Aren’t you worried about killing the mood here?” Motoya is still hard inside Rintarou so he thinks that’s a moot point, only difference is that he slows his pace - conversational pace, pillow talk but you’re still capable of fucking your partner deep and slow. 

Occasionally, Motoya’s capable of being considerate too, which is how Rintarou ends up getting a decent clip of his boy railing him, sexy lines and all despite his hand unable to stay still. “I can’t help it,” Rin smirks at his boyfriend, “I’m seeing you in a new light, and I get to have this all to myself,” unable to keep the smug tone out of his voice. 

“A new light?” Motoya’s question is punctuated with a deep thrust that causes Rin’s phone to slip out his hand, “You saying I wasn’t hot before this?” and the libero’s tongue peeks out to lick his bottom lip, placing a second hand on Rintarou’s waist. 

“Not like this,” Rintarou swings an arm around Motoya’s neck, drags him down to his level so they’re forehead to forehead, “Didn’t know you had it in you to be this forceful,” he exhales before Motoya’s bites down hard on his bottom lip. 

“Oh come on,” Motoya chuckles, letting his hands wander from Rin’s hips to his ass, giving his cheeks a firm squeeze, “Don’t tell me you thought I didn’t notice how you always liked being in control.” 

“Yeah? Rintarou chases after the taste of Motoya’s mouth, “Then this must be true love don’t you think?” 

“What? Me making you feel good?” his boyfriend nips him again, sharp and sweet, “Come on, don’t act like this doesn’t make you feel good. If you weren’t such a control freak, you’d be a lazier bitch than you already are,” presses into him rough while keeping his tone conversational, “Pretty sure you’d be a pillow princess, Rin.” 

Rintarou shudders from the merciless pace, eyes rolling into the back of his head, bites his bottom lip to prevent a loud moan tearing from his throat. Of course he’d be a little sensitive in this position, it’s because he doesn’t take Motoya all that often… speaking of which- 

Motoya has his thumb rubbing against the bob of Rintarou’s throat gently - anyone else, and Rintarou would consider it a threat. With Motoya though, the other man always ends up a little sweeter when topping when he’s in a good mood. 

And Motoya has been in a pleasant mood today since Rintarou took on his offer to go jogging in the park this evening. They had passed by children learning how to kick a football correctly and feeding ducks when they finally decided to take a break by the pond. Spending time together is nice - and even if Rintarou did complain about being sweaty and gross when a duck had quacked them aggressively, Motoya had leaned in and kissed his cheek, promising to take care of him later. 

The thumb drags up to below his chin, and Rin’s breath hitches when Motoya has his jaw between his thumb and forefinger. He’s smiling all content when he leans in to kiss Rin’s forehead, slowing down the pace into a drag that makes Rin choke on the sensation before coming into a full stop inside of him. 

“You’re so cute like this Rin,” Motoya presses a playful peck against the tip of Rin’s nose, “Think there’s any way I could convince you to be just as cute a little more often?” 

“Fuck you,” Rintarou growls with no heat, “I swear to god ‘toya- if you don’t continue fucking me ri-” and Motoya doesn’t even have the courtesy to let him finish his sentence before pulling out and pounding into him again. 

Motoya sighs, long suffering, “Alright princess, I’ll focus on me later. I promised to take care of you, yeah?”

* * *

**[ _0:09/0:26_ ]**

"Aw baby, I thought the whole 'naked apron' schtick was reserved for married couples," Rintarou's tone is amused and self-satisfied as an arm snakes around Motoya's waist, "Are you trying to imply something here?" 

To that, Motoya huffs an unimpressed sound, not sparing Rin a second look. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day after all and these eggs aren't going to scramble themselves. Still, he can't help but humor Suna, egging the other man on with questions meant to bait what's on his lover's mind. 

"What would I be trying to imply here?" Motoya's ass is bare while Rin has tugged on a pair of sweats. The brush of fabric between is nice, even more so than that is Rintarou who has his head dipped, nose nuzzling the nape of Motoya's neck, tickling strands of stray hair. Even though Motoya can't see Rin who's behind him, it isn't hard to imagine the arch of his back under the morning sun. Occasionally, Motoya has to catch himself from slapping Suna's spine when the other man hunches. His mother used to do that to him, telling him the horrors of a crooked spine to scare him into standing straight. 

"Mn, maybe that you wanna be my housewife," Rin's tone is teasing and Motoya can feel the other man's grin when his boyfriend finally peppers his skin with soft kisses. "You look real cute 'toya," Rin proceeds to lament dramatically, "If only I were a morning person, then I'd get to have this sight at the ass crack of dawn." 

"Stop being so crude," Motoya snickers, unable to help himself, "You know, anyone else might've taken that 'housewife' comment as an insult. Lucky you it's just me," Motoya grins as he extinguishes the stove fire. 

"Lucky me, I know," Rin murmurs, dragging lazy kisses up the column of Motoya's neck, before nibbling the shell of the libero's ear. "I'm just selfish, want to keep you all to myself." One hand wandering from the waist to give Motoya's ass a playful pinch. 

Motoya jumps, dropping the spatula, wood clanking against the metal pan. He turns around, the modesty of his chest preserved by the apron. He places a hand on Rin’s torso, shoving him two steps backwards with a little growl. “Rin…” it’s meant to be a threat, but all Rin can think about is how the strap of the apron ends up slipping to the side of bare shoulder - and yeah, that’s a nip slip. A rosy bud that Rin can’t decide if he wants to pinch it or press a kiss against it. 

Still, he probably shouldn’t test Motoya too much, because once Motoya starts getting bitchy he simply will not stop until Rintarou rails him to the point of tears or Motoya works him up to the brink of tears. While Rin usually would not be opposed to that - the vibes he’s getting from the drowsy sunlight is a lazy morning. He would prefer to not work up a sweat now. 

“I know, I know,” Rin hums, takes a step forward to press a kiss between Motoya’s brows, “You looked cute, couldn’t help myself.” His boyfriend pouts, clearly unsatisfied with the answer and Rintarou rolls his eyes, “and you’re always leaving me cold. Stop being a morning person, stay in bed with me thanks.”

“Fuck you,” Motoya sighs but meets Rin in the middle by wrapping his arms around Rintarou’s neck, “I was making _breakfast,_ can’t you show some appreciation?”

“Oh puppy, you’re always taking care of me,” Rin leans in close - kisses Motoya’s temple and gives a crooked smile, “Why don’t you let me show you that appreciation instead?” sneaks a hand to the small of Motoya’s back to undo the ribbon keeping the apron snug around his waist. 

“Breakfast is going to get cold,” Motoya huffs instead but Rintarou doesn’t miss the playful glint in the other man’s eyes, “Making it was hard work - I’d appreciate it if you ate it.”

“Mhm,” Rintarou drops the apron onto the kitchen floor with ease, “The microwave exists for a reason ‘toya. Microwave heated eggs aren’t that bad.” 

It’s clear that Motoya disagrees with the sentiment given how his nose immediately scrunches up. “That’s the worst thing you have ever said Rin.” 

“Is it?” Rintarou hums and lowers his arm to be placed under Motoya’s backside. Counts from one, two, and three before giving a little _hup!_ and throws Motoya over his shoulder. Perks of his boyfriend weighing 66 kilograms is that carrying him around isn’t a hassle. 

“Hey- Rintarou, what the _fuck,_ ” and Rin only shushes his puppy with a loving pat to his asscheek. 

“Relax baby,” Rintarou appeases as he walks them both to the bedroom, “Have a warm shower first. I’ll wash your hair, scrub your back - that’s a good show of appreciation isn’t it?” 

Motoya thumps Rintarou’s back with a curled fist lightly with a little groan, “Whatever, I hate you,”

Rin can’t help but chuckle at that, “It’s not that bad okay? I’ll even get on my knees first and blow you, won’t that be nice?” 

Motoya huffs petulantly again before going limp, and yeah - that’s how Rin knows that he’s won this meaningless morning tiff of theirs.

* * *

**[ _0:13/0:26_ ]**

A whimper that reverberates underneath Rintarou’s palm, two fingers hooked underneath the collar fastened around Motoya’s neck. 

It’s one of the first accessories Rin had ever gotten for the other man, just a little after _puppy_ had become more than just an affectionate nickname outside the bedroom. Rintarou had an appreciation for the finer things in life and Motoya had a penchant for dolling up if he was in the mood. It’s not his fault that Motoya looked good in a collar and thigh highs. 

A metal heart accentuating the bob of Motoya’s throat, and it’s definitely not Rin’s fault that Motoya has one of the prettiest expressive faces that he’s ever stumbled upon. Reaching for his phone to take a video of his boyfriend being taken apart by him just happens like second nature.

One hand holding an ankle to fold the libero in half, the other hand finally letting go of Motoya’s throat. A sob of relief escapes Motoya’s lips as his whole body shudders from one good gasp of air while Rintarou’s thumb fiddles with the fingerprint lock of his iPhone to swipe open the camera app. 

“Puppy, fuck-” Rintarou presses the bright red record button, trying to keep his hold on the phone steady but it’s hard when he’s trying to fuck into Motoya as deep as he can. “You’ve got a face that’s perfect on camera, you know that right?” and Motoya cracks open an eye to peek up at Rin, face flushed red and tears clinging to his lashes. 

It’s so cute, it’s actually unfair - especially with how Motoya arches his back and grinds down on Rin’s cock as if he hasn’t bottomed out, still wanting more. 

“More,” Motoya mewls out, catching Rintarou’s attention with heavy lidded eyes, “Rin- stop filming me, fasterfasterfaster. C’mon, gimme all your attention,” Motoya slurs his words, regaining just enough fine motor skills in the hand to grab onto Rintarou’s wrist and twist the phone out of his grasp. “Don’t wanna share your attention,” Motoya whines, “‘specially not with a double. I’mallhereforyoujustforyou- fuck, rinrinrin, youhavemeimhereimhereimhere” words strung together in a single breath as Rin grants Motoya’s wish. 

Rin isn’t sure where his phone is now, and while it’d be preferable for it to not drop to the floor, he has a more important task to take care of. Switches up his stance a little from the edge of the bed - no longer the flat of his left foot is pressed into the mattress, it’s both of his knees as he wraps both hands around Motoya’s ankles and presses those limbs to either side of Motoya’s head. 

It’s a stretch but even before Rin can check with Motoya if the position is good, Motoya’s biting his own hand, attempting to muffle his own moan. 

“Hey no,” Rintarou clicks his tongue as he pries away Motoya's hand, "I worked hard for this puppy,” stops all movement to simply _feel_ the inside of Motoya sheathing him - hot and tight and _slick_ , he isn’t able to help himself rutting into the warm heat as he kisses the inside of Motoya’s palm. 

“Lemme see your face ‘toya,'' Rin drags his tongue over the pulse point of Motoya’s wrist, nips the juncture of the wrist and presses another kiss centre of Motoya’s palm. Motoya’s expression is sweet and open despite the stray tears that track down the apple of his cheeks. All that is formed from those lips are incoherent words, sentences unable to be strung - Rin’s name uttered like a mantra, followed by curses and some god’s name said in vain. 

“You don’t have to say anything puppy,” the whisper leaves Rin’s mouth, thoughtless. 

“I just want you to feel good tonight,” Rintarou bends himself over to swallow all sound from his beloved.

* * *

**[ _0:17/0:26_ ]**

Motoya has one leg raised up in front of Rintarou’s waist, one hand placed on the taller’s shoulder to stabilize his center of gravity. Rin doesn’t know why Motoya insists on standing on his tippy toes even in such a ridiculous position, his spine curved backwards. 

Sure the position makes for a cute photo, but Rin could have just carried Motoya and let Motoya take the photo, which would have taken less effort. He voices out his thoughts once he’s taken a few photos and deleted the ones with shitty lighting, setting it down on the counter first though. 

Sexy time photos are cute, but he’s had to replace his phone screen twice now and he isn’t keen on doing it thrice for something that could be (debatedly) avoided. 

Motoya throws a hand to his forehead and sticks his leg out even further. “It’s cute isn’t it?" and Rintarou raises an eyebrow from the mirror as if asking _really?_ and Motoya's reflection sticks his tongue at Rin, "You know! The desperation of really wanting a kiss." 

Rintarou scoffs at that, "Like all the kisses you used to deny me?" casting his eyes downwards, one arm hooked under Motoya's knees, keeping his boy propped up. There are bruises on Motoya's knee that weren't there yesterday, or this morning. 

"Mouth kisses are sacred okay?" Motoya retorts as Rin raises Motoya's knee even higher, "and I didn't know if you- hey, what are you doing?" his boyfriend finally noticing how Rintarou cranes his neck low to press his lips against the purple and yellow hues contrasting against tanned skin. 

"These are new," Rin replies in lieu of a real answer, "Don't you wear kneepads at practice?" and kisses Motoya's shin. 

"It's no big deal," Motoya's tone is dismissive - clearly saying _don't worry_ , "I just did a stupid during cooldown,” and doesn’t elaborate anymore than that. Rintarou isn’t interested in making Motoya list out all his little boo-boos if the other man doesn’t want to, it’s just the only bruises he prefers to see on his boy are preferably from his teeth or fingertips. 

“Whatever you say puppy,” and Rin bends Motoya’s knee towards his chest, always a joy to be reminded of just how flexible his boyfriend is, “You gotta take of yourself though, it’s gonna be hard to win a game if you aren’t in top condition,” presses another kiss against Motoya’s ankle. Rintarou does not have a foot fetish, but he does think that every inch of Motoya is to be cherished. 

“Ooh, what’s got your mouth so sweet today Rin?” Motoya chuckles, “Honestly, you should be showing that concern for yourself ,” a moment’s pause before he continues, “ and the rest of your high school team actually.” 

Rin straightens himself up with an amused look, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Brass band annoyance aside, were the lack of knee pads supposed to be an intimidation tactic?” Motoya keeps his gaze level with Rin’s, “Akagi and Ginjima aside, the first time I saw all of you, all I could think was _what the fuck_.”

“Sounds like a compliment to me,” Rin hums and hefts Motoya up by the leg, feeling himself get impatient, wanting to get to the bedroom. While fucking Motoya against the bathroom counter doesn’t seem to be such a bad idea, he foesnt he realizes that all he wants is to wind down a little and kiss Motoya senseless. 

Having softer thoughts is kind of gross though, and Rin has a facade that he needs to keep for _himself_ at least. “Do you have to bring up our job whenever we’re about to do the nasty?” Rintarou sinks his teeth in Motoya’s collarbone. While Motoya has once called Rintarou a ‘bony motherfucker’ (which is. Obviously incorrect as a factual statement), Rin finds it nice that Motoya’s clavicle is easy to locate. 

He supposes that he’s been letting his possessive streak let itself be known a little more often now, maybe a result of them both being drafted into the National Team while being surrounded by other hot, talented athletes. Motoya hasn’t complained yet, so as long as Rin avoids, say, a conspicuous patch of skin on the side of the libero’s neck, then he thinks Motoya won’t mind. 

“Hey you asked, I answer,” Motoya protests and fists his hand in Rin’s hair, “Fuck- you plan on fucking me here?” the smaller pants, nails digging into Rin’s shoulder. 

Rintarou makes a considering sound, keeps the other man on his toes before planting a quick kiss to Motoya’s mouth. 

“Nah, let’s take you to bed. Gotta take care of those poor, delicate knees.” 

Motoya shoves him - causing Rin to go off balance and the two of them landing gracelessly on the bathroom tiles. Not ideal as Rintarou groans in pain, but Motoya immediately grabs him by the cheeks to pull him into a sloppy, filthy kiss that keeps getting interrupted by incessant giggles. 

“You’re going to kill both of us someday, ‘toya,'' Rintarou bites and tugs at Motoya’s bottom lip. It should be punishment but the moan that leaves Motoya lips doesn’t have an ounce of shame. 

“If that happens,” and Motoya chases Rin’s mouth when the taller breaks apart from their kiss, “You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” bats his lashes as if one of starlets from an old time American movie. 

It’s terrible how Rintarou falls for it anyway, pecking Motoya’s mouth and murmuring, “Don’t push your luck,” in a tone that’s too fond for his own ears.

* * *

**[ _0:23/0:26_ ]**

**“Hey puppy, look over here.”**

Cum’s dribbling from the side of Motoya’s mouth, mixed with his own spit and maybe stained with tears as well. His puppy blinking twice before finally looking at the phone in Rin’s hand. 

A rush of power that washes over Rin whenever Motoya gets into the headspace of an owner-pleasing _puppy_. Rintarou wishes he didn’t enjoy it as much as does but Motoya has given him permission to ruin him any way he wants, so it’d be foolish to not play with his puppy the way he wants to be fucked around with. The camera’s rolling in one hand, while the other hand lets go of the leash previously twirled around Rintarou’s fingers. 

Good boys deserve to be rewarded, but Rintarou allows himself to be greedy, wanting one more thing from this round of play. Makes kissy noises at Motoya and holds out his palm, waiting for the other man to get the message. Motoya understands immediately and crawls over on all fours before resting his chin on Rin’s palm, nuzzling Rintarou’s fingertips with his nose. 

It’s so fucking cute, and Rintarou swipes his thumb at the edge of his puppy’s mouth. Catches his own seed and presses the remains of it into Motoya’s mouth. Motoya who sucks at his thumb like a treat, not wanting to waste a single drop. 

A good boy, the best boy, and Rin’s wondering how he got so fucking lucky. 

“You’re filthy,” it should sound like a reprimand but Rintarou says it in a reverent tone, Motoya who’s the focus of all his attention through the lens of his camera. 

Motoya in the screen sends him a look, all soft and content and maybe a little out of it, his lips quirked up at the edges to mouth words with no sound. 

**_I’m all yours._ **

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to lia, kay, glacier, ven and chelle for letting me yeets bits of this at them. also to everyone who voted on the "what doja cat song komori motoya is" 
> 
> alternative title to this fic: love letters disguised as sextapes disguised as fancams are the modern man's tool of romance. poetry is dead, blingee filters are in. also im unhinged despite this fic being a domestic uwu chara study disguised as pwp. please scream with me - you can find me in [ hell ](https://twitter.com/rinrintoya).


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